


Making a Hemtarl

by Lust_Demon



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Gang Bang, Gratuitous Use Of Magic, Light BDSM, Lots of gay sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2018-09-01 13:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8626123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust_Demon/pseuds/Lust_Demon
Summary: A commission for a good friend of mine.  Owen, a human priest, discovers some of the social structures that Orcs make for themselves when he goes on a hunting trip with a few of the orcs in his Garrison.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fanaticismrestrained](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanaticismrestrained/gifts).



> First part of perhaps three or four, and this will be the longest chapter I think since it's mainly the set up. This was a lot of fun to write, especially finding names for the orcish characters. Owen is my friend's OC and I hope that I got his personality down pat for this. The rest of the orcs are all mine and I will enjoy whoring them out. <3

Admittedly, Owen had been getting lax in his normally cautious behavior.  There were truces in the Outlands to some extent, both sides of the warfront wanting to focus their attacks on the Burning Legion rather than each other.  But there were still caravans that went missing when Garrison leaders weren’t careful.  Supplies were spoiled or overturned by the occasional scout of the opposing side and depending on who was in charge it was either overlooked or petty revenge was taken.  Owen was the type to overlook it, write stern letters to the offending compound and even had the rangers in his employ train the carrier pigeons to shit on tables when they dropped off said letters.

It was certainly immature, but he didn’t want to escalate to violence if it could be helped.  The first aid tents were full enough as it was, not to mention the fact that if members of the Garrison were taken hostage, there might be no chance of getting them back.

The priest and part time tailor rested his hands on his desk, going over the inventory list to see what he would need for the upcoming months.  There were rumors that the Alliance wanted to band together for a siege, and if that was the case then he would need to set aside an allotment of herbs that one of his favorite mages collected each day in order to make health potions.  He would need to call everyone in from missions to make sure that they were close enough once marching orders were issued.  His fingers ghosted down the page to check the amount of thread that he had, double checking it against the imbuing powder.  He’d used a fair amount of it last month and wasn’t terribly surprised to see that he needed to restock.

“Sir?” 

“Mm?” Owen didn’t look up, his scowl still pointed down at the pages that he was going over, barely hearing the clipped, accented voice that was trying to grab his attention.

“Sir?”

“In a minute…” The priest huffed, blowing some of his dark hair away from his eyes.

There was a grumble and then a swath of paper smacked his shoulder, making him look up in surprise.  One of his couriers stood there, his burly brown arms crossed over his massive chest.  The barrel chested orc had a stern expression on his face, the leather armor that he wore straining to contain his muscles.  Apparently Owen was going to need to get his poor courier outfitted again because he could see where the seams on the leather was starting to pull apart and a section near his thigh was burned by some sort of plant acid.  To his embarrassment the swath of paper was tapped against his nose and his eyes crossed to look at it before pulling back in his seat.

“What’s wrong, Taruk?” Owen reached for the papers, unraveling the coarse string that bound it together and breaking the seal underneath so he could read the topmost missive.

“Our meat stores are running dangerously low.  Unless we want to pick out our least necessary mounts to eat, we’re close to starving.” Taruk explained as Owen read about the latest caravan raid that had the Horde running off with their meat rations.

The orcs in his Garrison kept treaty with him because he was able to keep them fed with no worries, but if this continued then he might have some sort of riot on his hands.  The elves could make do with fish and fruits, the humans and dwarves grudgingly so, but the larger the species the more they needed protein.  At least the draenei were kind enough not to hold it over his head at every opportunity though.  Rubbing the back of his neck, he nodded and started to flick through the pile of papers. 

“Alright, get me a list of available trackers and hunters.  We’ll fix this.  Don’t worry.” Owen looked up with a small smile, doing his best not to be deterred by the still stern scowl on the orc’s face.

The courier looked mildly appeased by this and gave a curt nod to the human priest.  Normally he wouldn’t have considered working for a human, but there were special circumstances behind this.  Owen had saved him and a number of other orcs and draenei from ogres who controlled the Ring of Blood.  He never would have thought that a creature so spindly (at least to his orcish eyes) would be capable of felling ogres by the dozen and yet Owen had swooped in with a bare minimum of warriors to assist him and freed them from death through dishonorable fighting and starvation.  As much as the human might frustrate him at times by wanting to veer away from fighting, the orc had to admit that when he did fight, it was a ferocious thing to be seen.  It wasn’t the heat of a blood lust, and it wasn’t the icy chill of a strategic kill.  Owen fought with compassion and restraint, not exerting more force than necessary and not killing unless he had to.  

Making his way out of the office, Taruk went over to the woman who normally passed out assignments quietly explaining to her what Owen had asked for.  And then asking once more because she didn’t quite understand him because of his accent, doing his best not to growl at her in annoyance.  Just what sort of language didn’t have gutteral ‘k’s in it?

Folding his arms, he waited in semi patience for the list that she procured, raising an eyebrow when she made a couple of annotations on it.  When he looked at it as he was walking back to Owen, he saw that there were neatly written dates on it to show when other hunters would be coming back to the Garrison.  His own name was on there, of course, along with a few of his blood brothers from the Ring.  He pushed open the door to Owen’s office without knocking and passed the note over to him, waiting for further instruction.  The dark haired human didn’t need to be poked with paper this time around and he skimmed through the list with a little frown.  When Owen glanced up, his features relaxed, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“So, how do you feel about going out and roughing it a bit?”

Taruk snorted, the veins in his muscles jumping a tiny twitch.  It was a politely worded question and the orc had to remind himself that the human didn’t mean anything wrong by it.  It was the human’s nature to phrase his requests like this so it wasn’t quite as demanding.  If the question had come from an orc, however, Taruk would have rightly assumed that he was having his capability questioned.

“I feel fine with it.”

“Alright.  You and I will go out then and find some game to bring back to the Garrison.  Go ahead and pick three others to come with us that you think would work well with us.  I’m thinking we can bring a small cart and talbuk with us.  Once we find a decent area with prey, we can set up a temporary camp and then do our hunting, sending carts back to the Garrison while the rest of us stay out and continue.  Plan for a four day expedition.  You’ll have a full candlemark to get everyone together as well as the supplies that we’ll need.” Owen lightly tapped his thumb to his palm as he listed off what needed to be done in quiet tones, his eyes flicking to Taruk’s chest in distraction. 

Taruk’s chest puffed with pride when Owen handed the responsibility to him, one fist quickly coming up to thump just under his heart.  “Yes Sir, Commander.”

“Oh, and we’ll need at least one good skinner to work with us.  Your armor looks a little strained and it should be repaired or replaced, and if yours is like that, I imagine that some of the others could use some updating as well.” Owen spoke quickly, wanting to assuage any stubbornness that Taruk might have by suggesting that others would need some help with their armor as well.

The courier looked a little bothered by this, sure that he could make do with what he had but not wanting to point that out to Owen.  The Commander insisted on protection for those in his Garrison and if Taruk tried to get out of it, he’d be sure to get an earful from the priest about unnecessary scars and wasting the animals hides by not using every part that they could.  He bowed his head before leaving the office, already knowing which of his Blood brothers that he would call on for this task.  While they all appreciated Owen for taking them out of the ring, not all would want to be there in a hunting camp with a human so Taruk had to take that into consideration.  He briefly considered getting a night elf or a draenei to help them, but he had to admit that he wasn’t that keen on them either, not trusting the elves thinner builds and having too many years of fighting between orcs and draenei to be comfortable having one at his side.

Since they only needed three others to come with them, and the only caveat was that Owen wanted at least one good skinner, it made Taruk’s job of gathering together the other orcs rather easy.  There was one orc that had been taken from the same clan as him and they’d spent time together as youths so they knew one another’s fighting styles well.  To not have Gart there by his side would have been like leaving the Garrison without his bow and arrow.  The second was one he knew mostly in passing, one he knew was comfortable with humans since he’d seen the other behind the barracks with them on more than one occasion.  Cadgar was excellent with beasts so if they ended up sending back a fair amount of meat to the Garrison, he could be trusted to keep the Talbuk calm despite the smell of blood in the area.  

The last orc, he hesitated when he considered them.  With Owen acting in a healing capacity and himself as a long distance fighter, they might need someone who could charge ahead to keep a beast (or humanoid’s) attention when they got into a fight.  His first thoughts went to Zarrek, an orc that had been part of the Ring of Blood since before Taruk and Gart were dragged in.  Zarrek was certainly strong, nearly undefeated, and he rarely spoke, preferring to use gesticulations.  When he’d first met Zarrek, Taruk thought that he was cold and distant because of how little he interacted with others.  Staying at the Garrison hadn’t changed Taruk’s thoughts much, but since Owen needed men to come with them, it was worth taking the chance to find out how well Zarrek would fit with their small group.  At the very least, the older orc would do well to defend them against rampaging beasts, and perhaps spending time in close quarters with Owen would endear the human to the stoic warrior. 

One by one, Taruk went to the orcs he chose and let them know that he needed them for a hunting expedition. Each time he was greeted with broad grins, his friends looking forward to getting out of the Garrison and getting a chance to prove their mettle against beasts. Or maybe they were just excited because as the hunters, they would get first choice of the meat before it was sent back to the Garrison. Either way, he was glad to have them by his side. 

The supplies were easy enough to gather together. Since they would be hunting, he trusted in their skills that they only needed some basic rations.  He grabbed a first aid kit and tossed it up alongside the other supplies on the cart. And that was all that they needed, right?

Wrong. The woman in charge of passing out requests took one look at the cart and gently rebuffed him that a human's normal set of supplies also included a tent and blankets. An emergency hearthstone in case someone was seriously injured. A hand shovel for digging a latrine. One canteen of water per person. 

To be honest, that was the point that he stopped listening and just nodded along as she talked. He didn't need most of the things she was listing, but she had a point with the mention of water, extra blankets and a tent. He wanted to make a good impression on Owen after all. The commander wanted him to make arrangements, and he might not ask him again if he didn't do things the human way. 

Still, once they were out in the field, he would talk with the priest about the amount of things they were bringing that just weren't necessary. His brothers in arms were quick to join him once they gathered what small amounts they needed and he could see some of the humans and elves looking at them oddly as they gathered near the administration building to wait for Owen. Gart was using a knife to clean under his fingernails, leaning back against the wall so he could watch what was going on around them. Cadgar was chattering at Zarrek, who didn't seem to be paying him any mind aside from the occasional nod or grunt. Just from seeing how much Cadgar was opening up now, Taruk could tell that the animal handler and Owen would get along like boars in mud.  The ruddy skinned orc had an energetic personality that the Ring of Blood had never managed to quell completely.  From what Taruk could tell, he was going on about a new manner of catching mounts or possibly smaller animals that they could use for keeping a small farm.  It would definitely be good for the future so Taruk would have to push him to talk to Owen about that later.

When Owen finally came out, it was exactly one candlemark after he had sent Taruk out originally.  His dark hair was pulled back away from his face and he had on a robe that had some patches near the edges, proof that it was well loved and used to the road.  Of course this would just be something that Taruk could point out to him later to show that even Owen needed new armor, not just those in his Garrison.  The priest stepped forward and looked at the orcs that Taruk gathered together, taking a small step back at first.

“Commander, this is our Hemtarl.  We’ll be happy to follow you.” Taruk tapped his fist against his chest, grinning down at the human.

“A… Hemtarl?” Owen looked at the four orcs in confusion.

“Hemtarl is an orcish term.  It roughly translates to hunting party.” Cadgar explained patiently, flipping his knife closed and putting it into the sheath on his hip. “Although it’s a specific one, meant to signify that those in it have a shared closeness.  Say you took me and you out of it and replaced our number with the brave little gnome, Gidgette, and the draenei, Pukta, it would not be the same.  Instead the word would be: Vishnarl.” 

Owen looked interested in the little linguistics lesson and a slow smile crossed his features when he realized what they were saying by accepting the term Hemtarl being applied to the five of them.

“Thank you!  I’m honored to be with you.” Owen hitched his pack up on his shoulder and moved over to the cart that they were using to carry the heavier items.  “I’ve got a map of the area and I thought that we could start by going down near the water, but if anyone else has a prefered route or knows a better path we can always adjust our travels as we go so we can best find the meat we need.”

“Fresh meat will be wonderful!” Cadgar grinned as he hitched up the talbuk to the cart and took the position on the front to lead them out.  “Not that I don’t like what we have here, but there’s something altogether different when you’re able to carve it straight off the haunch and fire it up just enough to chase out the gaminess and then eat it still bloody.”

“Do all orcs prefer their meat to still be bloody?” Owen asked hesitantly as they left the Garrison, the doors creaking shut behind them.

“Usually, yes.” Taruk answered. 

Owen looked rather startled by that and let his gaze turn to in front of them, his mouth working like he was trying to find the right words and couldn't quite get them to come out. Swallowing, he clasped his hands in front of him, his cheeks flaring with color. As the seconds passed, his mind flashed with images of the orcs around the fire eating their meals as they truly preferred them. 

Cadgar looked at the human oddly, not sure why Owen looked so freaked out all of a sudden.  He adjusted his hands on the talbuk’s lead and clicked his tongue to grab the beasts attention, a small nudge making it amble down the correct pathway that they wanted.  The road they traveled was barely worn down by foot or paw or cart tracks, making it a bumpy journey for everyone involved.   Zarrek chose to walk beside Taruk, leaving the other three to save their energy and enjoy the slow pace of the talbuk pulling the cart.  Owen leaned back on his hands and looked up at the sky, a sigh escaping him when he took in the thin clouds that were spread across the sky that was still a light shade of blue.  The further they got into the day it would shift from this to an odd shade of plum and then dark blue or purple depending on the weather.  The scenery of Draenor never ceased to fascinate Owen and he wondered if the Draenei who landed on Azeroth often felt the same about his home.

“You’re spacing out.” Cadgar teased him, reaching back from the front bench to give Owen’s shoulder a shake. “Do you see something tasty?”

_ Just the four orcs with me _ . Owen thought with a little smile, not wanting to voice that thought aloud. 

Turning his gaze up to the sky, he traced one of the thin clouds in the sky. “No, just appreciating everything while I'm out here. Most days I'm either stuck inside or I'm running around like crazy so I don't get to enjoy this.”

“Well… just give us the word and we’ll kidnap you for your own good every once in awhile.” Cadgar replied smoothly, his tone serious enough to make Owen look at him in surprise. 

Laughing quietly, the priest nodded and leaned back against one of the packs that had been tossed into the cart. As he looked at what they had, he frowned slightly. There really wasn't that much stuff there for the five of them, was there?  Leaning over the side of the cart, he waved Taruk to come closer. “Ah… you did pack everything that we need, right?  I don't want to nitpick..”

“Don't worry, I talked to the staff Sergeant before we left. She made sure I packed a tent and a couple blankets for you.  We have all the things we need to survive.” Taruk waved a hand, patting Owen’s arm like he was a worrisome teenager on his first hunt. 

And in a way, he almost was. He may have been on human trips for deer and wolf before, but Owen was about to get an education in the orcish way of the hunt. 

“So what do you know about tracking?” Taruk asked seriously, wanting to know just how much they would need to teach the poor human. 

“I keep my eyes on the person in front of me and I follow them.” Owen admitted. “I've always assisted with hunting, never took the lead.  So I'll do whatever you tell me.”

Taruk could hear Gart chuckling quietly to himself and scowled over at his friend. There was no need for that sort of childishness. When his eyes slid over to Zarrek, he could see the look of consideration on his ruddy features and tensed up at the thought of fighting it out with the older orc over whatever thought was in his head. 

“I’ll admit, I’m a little surprised that you’re so easy going when it comes to following the lead of someone else.” Gart spoke casually and Taruk looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“Just because I lead a Garrison doesn’t mean that I know everything.  There’s still a lot for me to learn and I’m happy to let someone else show me what I need to do.” Owen smiled blissfully and arched his back with a little yawn.

“So what do you hope you’ll learn on this trip?” Gart reached over and put his arm around Owen, startling the priest a little.

The priest was quiet for a moment, trying to find his voice so he could answer without squeaking.  His eyes darted to Gart’s hand that was resting comfortably on his shoulder and he smiled faintly. 

“Well, I-I-I’d like to learn more about all of you.  About your culture too, that’d be amazing.” Owen flushed up to the tips of his ears when he heard himself stutter.

“Like all of the things that normally happen between those in a Hemtarl?” Gart’s lip curled when he smiled, though his tone stayed jovial.

“Are there things that normally happen?” Owen perked up like there was a treat dangling over his head.

“Arm wrestle, to decide who cooks dinner.” Gart smirked and then poked Owen’s shoulder. “Don't worry, tonight we’ll show you how to cook it for us.”

“There will be wrestling to decide who is in charge.” Zarrek spoke up, his voice raspy from lack of use. 

“No one will get hurt, right?” Owen frowned a little, his heart starting to pick up at the thought of the fighting, wondering how many of them would actually fight and who would sit it out with him. 

“Not seriously.”

“Zarrek.” Owen tensed, his gaze stern as he stared at the ex gladiator. 

The priest froze when Zarrek returned his stare, starting to wilt under the red eyes that seemed to bore into him. He had been told that Zarrek had never drank demon blood, that his eyes were a natural, if uncommon shade, but it still drove a shiver up his spine when he found the orc staring at him too long. 

He let his gaze shift to the dark wood of the cart and tried to console himself with the fact that no matter what happened, he would be able to heal the damages done.  He jolted when he felt a strong hand clap against his shoulder and looked over to Gart who was smiling at him.  Owen licked his lips as he looked back down at his hands, unsure of what he could say that might dissuade the orcs from fighting too seriously.  Perhaps he could get one of them to explain to him why they thought this was necessary.

“You’re worrying too much.” The hunter rubbed Owen’s shoulder slowly.  “This is the sort of thing that we’ve grown up on.  And it’s a Hemtarl, we have a closeness that some others don’t.  We aren’t going to fight one another to dismemberment.  Just enough to show who should be in charge.” Gart spoke with the ease of someone with firm belief.

“Can I really be considered part of your Hemtarl?” Owen asked in a soft, unsure voice.  “I’m not an orc, and I’ve never even fought beside you before.”

“Maybe not, but you did rescue us.  And Taruk knows you well enough to trust you.  So we’ll call this your first foray into the wild and you’ll get used to us the way we got used to you.” Gart’s tone was soft as he pulled Owen in closer to him. 

“Thanks.” the priest ducked his head, feeling a heat rush up to his cheeks.

Owen looked up again when he felt a small jolt as the cart came to a stop and he looked around them.  Going to the edge of the cart, he climbed down and dusted off his robes, looking at the area that Cadgar had brought them to.  It was quiet of nearly all animal sounds, just a few birds chirping up in the trees but no insects to be heard.  Turning his head, Owen frowned faintly and reached for his staff, his fingers curling around the smooth wood, shifting upwards to find the leather that had been wrapped around it to act as a grip.  He could feel shivers crawling up his spine and licked his lips, his thoughts igniting the runes that went from the base up to the large horn like arcs near the top.  Taruk silently came up beside Owen and from the corner of his eye, the priest could see that he was relaxed and not even bothering to reach for his weapon.  Trusting in the courier’s instincts in being in this area, he let his grip loosen and tried to make himself relax, reminding himself that his Hemtarl would be there to protect him from anything.

He was about to comment and ask where they would go next, when one of the bushes nearby started to jostle quietly.  Still, Taruk and the others looked relaxed, the only difference in how everyone stood being Zarrek, who took a step forward and let his hand come up to rest on the axe that was on his hip.  Owen bounced on the balls of his feet in surprise when a canine snout shoved out from the foliage and a large beast stared at them with dark gold eyes.  His breath caught in his throat as the creature looked at each of them in turn, practically able to feel the brush of fangs against his pulse as it looked at him.  Zarrek let out a low growl, meeting the eyes of the wolf without stepping forward.  Owen could feel his skin prickling and his breath left him in a rush as he watched the wolf turn back and bolt into the bushes again.

“Do you think this will affect our hunting badly?” Owen looked at the others.

“A little more difficult maybe, but since this wolf knows we’re here, we may as well make camp.” Cadgar shrugged a shoulder as he unhitched the talbuk and started to rub the beast down.

“So we’ll get wood for a fire first?” Gart asked quietly, voicing what Owen was thinking.

“No.” Zarrek turned and stared at Taruk, his fingers flicking the axe off his belt so it landed beside Owen’s feet.

The priest felt his heart clench as the shine of the blade flickered in the sunlight.  He watched as Taruk took a step to the side, nodding to Zarrek as they started to walk around one another.  Owen could feel his blood race when the elder orc glanced at him, wetting his lips as the pair seemed to wait on some silent signal.  Owen looked at Gart for an answer, hoping that he would be able to illuminate things for him.  The energetic orc looked vaguely subdued and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“So this is…” Owen shivered as his gaze moved back to the pair that were circling one another, his hands trembling so he had to hold his staff tighter. “To see who's in charge?”

Gart nodded but didn’t speak up, making Owen wonder if he shouldn’t be talking either.  But there were so many thoughts swarming in his head, his stomach making an odd flutter as he watched the two of them do brief stretches in order to warm up as much as time would allow.  Time, however, wasn’t something that they seemed to have a lot of.  He could tell from the build of energy in the air that what was coming had to happen, he just didn’t know why.

He wanted to ask what would happen when Taruk made the first move, ducking low and rushing forward so he could try to catch Zarrek around the waist.  The older orc let out a small huff as he caught Taruk even as the arms wrapped around him.  His fingers gripped the edges of the slightly worn leather vest.  In a smooth movement, he pulled up and hefted Taruk off his feet, twisting as he did so to send the younger orc flying a few feet away.  Zarrek said nothing, just waited for Taruk to get up again, his bright red eyes looking through his opponent.  His fingers tapped against his thigh and he grumbled something under his breath about young orcs.  Owen could see that there was a small smile on the normally quiet orc’s face and that quirk of the lips made his heart thud faster.  The two orcs met in the middle and Zarrek was pushed back a step as Taruk grunted, grabbing the older orc’s shirt and trying to pull him down to the ground. 

The two moved closer to the ground, but Zarrek was still mostly holding himself up.  His shoulders curled under the combined weight of two bodies but he still didn't go down.  His shirt, however, didn’t fare as well.  The dark fabric ripped down the side, letting Owen see a series of old scars along his ribcage.  One of his feet moved under him in a quick jerk as he did his best to get better leverage and hauled upwards with a snarl that had Owen’s breath catching in his throat. His eyes followed the line of scars, part of his mind caught up on what must have caused the stark thin lines, while the other part admired how healthy Zarrek was to be able to lift Taruk up clear over his head before tossing him five feet away. 

Silently, Owen chided himself that he shouldn't be so impressed. But Taruk wasn't too injured, except perhaps that he was a bit out of breath from the toss. If anything, Taruk looked more energetic than he had the entire walk down here. Brawling seemed to be something that was ingrained in their culture and he had seen Taruk and Gart more than once shoving one another around playfully. This was much more serious, but he could see there was no killing intent on either side. Loud snarling was mostly posturing and bared teeth was more like a haughty smile from one to the other. 

There was barely a breath taken when Taruk dashed forward, showing the brashness of his youth as he hurried to trap Zarrek against a tree, trying to push him against the hard bark and use the environment to his advantage. Owen winced at the thought of the harsh scratches Zarrek's back would get, even if he did have thick skin it would still hurt wouldn't it?  To his surprise, the elder orc just laughed and let his arms hang loose at his sides. His red eyes met Owen’s and he lifted his chin a bit, silently telling him to keep his head up and keep watching. The priest saw Taruk heaving against Zarrek’s body like he wanted to push him clear through the tree, the older orc not making a noise as he let the younger make his attempt. After a few shoves, his large arms wrapped around Taruk’s arms and shoved down to break the hold he had, creating his own iron like lock of limbs around Taruk. With a small curl of his lip, he took Taruk in a bear hug and lifted him up as easily as one might a child or an elf. Taruk was doing his best to squirm free, his fingers curling in the dark leather of Zarrek’s trousers and trying to pull them up to create a sharp pinch but he could get a good handful of the material. Zarrek's muscles barely strained as he tightened his hold and then shook Taruk back and forth like a rag doll. 

The elder orc grunted and laughed as he moved away from the tree and then dropped Taruk, waiting until he was backed off a step to kick him in the gut and give some distance between them again. The younger orc looked winded and Owen made to step forward and act as mediator when he felt a strong hand clasp his shoulder. Gart gave his head a small shake, eyes following the two warriors in their makeshift Ring. He leaned in just enough to grunt in Owen’s ear, making the hair raise on the back of the priest's neck. 

“You need to let them do this. By your Garrison rules, we should follow Taruk, but -our- rules we would normally follow Zarrek. They won't seriously injure one another, especially when there's a hunt to be done and meat to be brought home. But they need to settle this between the two of them, who's going to lead.” Gart explained. 

“Well since I asked for this group, couldn't I choose who leads so they don't need to fight?” Owen asked. 

“You could, but they won't thank you for it.”

He noticed then that the two of them were tensed, angled as if they were waiting for him to say yay or nay. If it came to it, they would listen to him, and that's what was really important. The dark haired human took a breath and stepped back, nodding to them even though it made his nerves sing with worry. He wanted to take them both under the shade of the trees and fuss over them until they agreed to stop fighting. He forced his hands to curl around his staff so he could resist the urge to grab them both, doing his best to wipe the disapproval off his face as he watched. 

Really, it was amazing to watch and he wasn't sure how many humans got this sort of opportunity so he wanted to treat it like a learning experience. His tongue darted across his lips quickly and he spared a distracted smile to Gart, barely noticing how the orc was idly shifting his weight from foot to foot.  When the movement became too much not to see, he looked at Gart to try ask why he was so excited and was halted by the light in his dark green eyes.

“This is really important.” Owen began hesitantly, his voice low. “But I just don't get it.  I would have thought that after being in the Ring, you wouldn't want to fight just for the heck of it.”

“The opposite.” Gart blinked as he looked at the priest.  “Fighting like this, just to test boundaries, just to exercise?  It’s part of our culture.  We can't allow some big dumb brutes to take that from us.  You would still pray and keep your spiritual faith even if a cult that worships the Legion captured you and tried to use your body for succubus meat.”

He shrugged and smiled a little. He had always had a different way of dealing with the Light and worshipping and he couldn't say that he knew anyone who did it the same. 

“You're not wrong.” Owen spoke softly. “I'm not sure if it's the same, but that's more because I don't really understand why fighting is so important to you.”

Gart chuckled quietly and started to rub Owen’s shoulder as they watched Zarrek get kneed in the gut by a hyperactive Taruk. The younger orc had his fists up in front of himself, shifting his weight quickly from foot to foot as he kept out of arms reach. There was a soft set of growls from both orcs and Owen brought a hand up to his chest, rubbing across his pectorals as he watched them start in on one another again. It almost seemed like they were saving their energy for when he was watching them.

He saw Zarrek snort and grab Taruk as he was coming forward, pushing his upper body down while grabbing onto his leathers so he could heft him up over his head. Owen couldn't breath as he watched Taruk get flipped upside down and hefted up into the air. Zarrek laughed and fell backwards with Taruk still up in the air, sending them both crashing into the ground. Zarrek was laughing as he turned on the ground and grabbed Taruk, turning him onto his front and grabbing his legs, bending them back until the younger orc yowled in pain.  Owen started to walk around to get a better view of them, wanting to make sure that Zarrek wasn't pulling hard enough to break something.  Zarrek looked up to watch where Owen was walking and casually shifted both Taruk’s legs so he could hold them under one arm, using his free hand to motion Owen closer. 

“Would you like to count the pin?” The older orc asked him softly. 

It didn't seem like it was necessary since Taruk could barely move from the position he was in, but Owen smiled shyly as he tapped his staff against the ground in a slow count to five. At the mark of five, Taruk went utterly still and Zarrek let go of his legs, smoothly standing up.

“I packed a tent for Owen.  I’ll set it up.” Taruk grumbled softly as he brushed the dirt off himself, avoiding meeting Owen’s eyes as he passed by him to go to the supply cart,

Owen started to turn, wanting to ask what was wrong, but he felt a calloused hand take hold of his wrist. When he looked back, Zarrek was much closer than he expected and looking down at him with an unfamiliar expression. 

“Is there going to be more fighting?” Owen lifted his chin, his heart pounding as the burning embers of Zarrek’s eyes bore into his own.

“Would you enjoy that?”

“No!” Owen felt his cheeks heat up with the lie. 

If Zarrek could tell it was a lie, he didn't call him on it, choosing to pull him aside and put an arm around Owen’s waist.

“Can you tell me why you did that? Couldn't you have let Taruk take over this hunt?” Owen spoke the words softly, looking to the side to see that Gart was giving Taruk a consolatory half hug as they took out the tent materials to set up.

“I could have. But I wanted this win.”

“Because it sets precedent?” Owen guessed.

Zarrek nodded in agreement, his thick fingers rubbing across Owen’s hip and down his thigh slightly. The priest felt his breath catch and he glanced down at the dark fingers that were ghosting back up under his watchful eye.

“Oh.. okay.  Is there anything else I should know?” Owen fumbled for his words as Zarrek’s hand continued to stroke his side and inch inwards to pull their bodies closer together. The older man's breath was warm on his neck and Owen stayed tense as the calloused fingers rubbed circles up to his ribs. 

Zarrek grunted softly, something that was likely a ‘no’ or perhaps it was ‘dont ask’.  The orc’s fingers continued to gently press on his ribs, making Owen more nervous than a harsh touch might have on any other day.  He wasn’t sure why the orc with the rough red skin would want to be so close to him, much less to put his hands on him, and he could feel his nerves jitter as he tried to think of some way to ask, without offending, what was going on.

Zarrek rubbed his mouth along Owen’s shoulder from where he stood behind him.  The priest shuddered and his eyes widened as he felt shivers run up and down his spine. He was tugged back one last step so Owen was pressed flat against Zarrek and the soft leather harness the orc had on was close enough that he could feel it against his shoulder blades. 

“So what are the others doing?” Owen felt his heart rate spike as tusks scrapped across his skin, Zarrek nibbling on his throat.

“Taruk will set up the tent.  Gart will begin to collect wood for a fire.  Cadgar will settle the talbuk in for our stay here.” the elder orc muttered the answer quietly, his voice gruff.

“And what about us…?” Owen’s voice raised slightly, a squeak coming from him that he couldn’t help.  

“The others know their place.  Now I can show you yours.” Zarrek darted his tongue out to catch Owen’s earlobe, sucking on it softly.  

The warm breath on his neck and the firm suckle on his earlobe made his knees feel weak, but Owen was unnerved by Zarrek’s words, his heart squeezing in panic when he thought of how Taruk had been shown ‘his place’ with the fight.  He didn’t want to get thrown all around the clearing by the much stronger orc.  As he started to step away, however, Zarrek gripped his hips and started to grind and thrust against his ass.  Even with the layers of cloth Owen could feel the thickness that was throbbing against him.  The tall orc behind him was grunting softly, murmuring something to himself.

“H-how…?” Owen could barely stutter out the word, his legs shaking and his hands reaching out to steady himself on a tree in front of him.  He didn’t think there would be fighting involved, if Zarrek’s erection was any indication.

“Put your on your knees.  Have you suck my cock and swallow my cum.” Zarrek’s voice was thick with lust as he explained, his thrusts slow and firm against Owen’s ass, rocking him forward with each push.  “Or could pull up your robes.  Rub up against you and mark you with my cum on your ass and thighs.  Or… you could let me fuck you, fill you up with it.”

He paused, even stopping in his thrusts, although his lips stayed close to Owen’s ear as he spoke.  His tone was low and not unkind.  

“Or… you can walk away, and we won’t be Hemtarl.  We’ll be Vishnarl instead.”

“Is… the uh…. We…” Owen stumbled through his words as he tried to make his thoughts make some sort of sense, the scent of the orc behind him practically filling his head and making him salivate.  “Would it be wrong?  To be Vishnarl?”

“Never wrong.  Just different.  Hemtarl means that there is a strong bond of trust here between us all.  As the newest member, you show that trust by giving us your body.  For this trip, when we ask you to, you’ll jerk us off and let us cum on your face.  You’ll bend over and show us your hole simply for the pleasure of seeing it.” Zarrek’s tone was calm, reasonable even and his hands drifted to Owen’s sides to stroke along his ribs to help him relax.  “You’ll let us fuck you when we need release.  And you’ll trust us to take care of you and not overwork your body past what it can take.  Because I’m in charge, if I think someone is being too rough on you, or that you look uncomfortable, I will step in to stop it.”

“I…. I want to be Hemtarl.” Owen whimpered as he stared at the grass, his body shaking with the admission. 

“Then choose your first act.” Zarrek murmured, petting his hair. 

His fingers fumbled a little as he started to pull up his robes and he could swear that he felt Zarrek staring at his legs as the fabric rose up a little at a time.  The orc didn’t demand that he hurry and didn’t even make dirty comments, simply waited and occasionally pressed a kiss to his neck that had him shuddering and letting out a nervous laugh.

“May I--” His breath caught in his throat and his words cut off at the feel of a heavy, calloused hand cupping his ass, massaging the pert cheeks.  “May I be filled with your seed, please Sir?”

“Happily.” Zarrek growled, one of his larger hands catching the fabric of Owen’s robes and pulling it up the rest of the way, pushing it to the side so it wouldn't interfere. 

The priest felt his breath catch as the warm hands rested on his hips, squeezing the softness before stroking his fingers along the curve of Owen’s hip bones. The elder man’s breath was hot against his ear and he could hear the beginning of a low growl that made the area between his shoulder blades tingle. Owen reached in front of him to rest his hands on the thick trunk of the tree in front of him, swallowing back the nervousness when he felt lips against his neck.  There was warmth there and Zarrek nudged him to make him move his head to the side, his tongue laving across the tender skin. A quiet shuffling could be heard as he came in closer and Owen felt one hand gently squeezing his ass, pushing his cheeks apart. Nipping his neck gently, Zarrek groaned softly and bumped his hips forward rocking his clothed erection against the swell of Owens cheeks. In the past Owen had gotten used to men who would talk to him as they played with his body, but Zarrek was as quiet as he normally was, taking his time to enjoy the smooth skin of his thighs and backside. Zarrek amused himself with simply cupping Owen’s bottom and squeezing it at first, maybe trying to relax the priest before he would start.  When he undid his trousers, the elder orc pulled his cock out and rubbed it along the cleft of Owen’s ass, letting him feel the thickness there.

Owen’s eyes darted from the tough texture on the tree to the ground and he bit his tongue when he felt the head push down and then inwards, prodding to find his hole and kiss it with precum. His breath hitched as the tip stroked his hole and pressed in, the hand that rested on his hip keeping him still as Zarrek tested the muscle a little at a time.  Owen could hear him spit into his hand and wet his cock with it, making it a little slicker as he pushed at him and grunted quietly.  Closing his eyes for a few moments, the priest took a breath and let his mind wander from the insistent press of the cock on his asshole.  His lips formed words without speaking and he gasped lightly when trickles of magic worked over his body, relaxing him and easing the passage so Zarrek could give a proper thrust.

The orc gave an obviously pleased moan and jerked his hips a little before taking hold of Owen’s hips, showing the priest the rhythm he was going to take and whispering that he was pleased with him.  His lips pressed to the back of Owen’s neck and he gasped as he rolled his hips forward, amazed by the heat that pressed down on him and shuddering when he heard the stilted sounds from his human lover.  He didn’t mind one way or the other if Owen wanted to be quiet while they fucked, but he was fairly certain by the time he was done, his priest was going to be a sobbing mess.  He looked down at his hands as he cupped the pale flesh, the subtle flexes of Owen’s asshole when he hilted himself and rolled his hips, wanting the human to feel the thickness and know that he was being claimed by the leader of the hunt.  He tipped his head back with a grunt and let himself bask in the tightness that seemed to pull him in deeper with each slow thrust.  The halting whines that Owen made when he pulled out all the way and played his tip against the hole before beginning the slow slide into him once more.  Right now it was just a tease for them both, a preparation not just for what Zarrek was going to do to him but what each of them would take from him in time.

Zarrek took his time to build up his energy, barring his teeth when Owen met his thrusts with slow grinding motions.  He saw Owen’s fingers clutch the bark of the tree and smiled to himself when the priest continued to hold back any sounds.  The simple thrusts made the human’s legs shake and Zarrek lowered his hands a bit so his thumbs could stroke the sensitive skin just to the sides of Owen’s entrance.  He could feel a slight tension and paused, his hand rubbing Owen’s thigh to make sure he wasn’t inadvertently getting a cramp.  Too much too fast wasn’t good for a body, and Owen was small in comparison to him after all.  Even though Owen was still tense, he heard him sigh his thanks and kissed his neck once more as his only answer.  He didn’t need words when he had his hands and cock to speak for him.  His fingers rubbed in slow circles and he felt the tension ease away enough that he could start to thrust again, being rewarded with a soft groan from Owen.  The dark haired priest rocked his hips back and shivered as a hand crept from his ass up his back and settled on his neck, giving a soft squeeze before curling in his hair, pulling his head back.  He felt a slight strain on his throat and stared up at the branches of the tree, his jaw dropping when Zarrek rolled his hips once more and gave him a subtle push to lean over further.  He let himself whimper a quiet ‘please’, his voice rising in pitch when Zarrek pulled out all the way and tapped his cock against Owen’s plump cheeks, a couple drops of pre coming off his tip and landing on the small of the priest’s back.  

Looking back as much as he could, Owen got his first look at the thick length, his breath catching when he saw that Zarrek was stroking it, simply staring at his ass.  Whining quietly, Owen canted his hips upward and was rewarded with the head coming back to his hole, but it only rubbed against it, playing with the crack of his ass.  Owen had to bite back his begging, his breath coming a little faster as the thickness spread his cheeks and smeared him with pre before slipping down again and pressing inside.  The priest felt a shudder of relief when he was filled up again and his eyes rolled back when both hands came to rest on his hips again.  A soft sound warbled in his throat and he squeezed down on the cock, wanting to drive Zarrek just as wild as he felt.  A heavy hand came down on his ass in one quick slap, a yelp escaping him with the spanking.  He looked at Zarrek with wide eyes and was greeted with a large smirk filled with teeth. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't pull up any feelings of nervousness when that smirk was directed at him. The hunger in the dark red eyes told him that Zarrek wanted him and wouldn't let anyone take him away from him until he was finished. He was safe in the arms of the massive orc. Awkwardly smiling to the ruddy skinned orc, he gasped quietly when Zarrek began to shift his weight forward and another inch began to slide into him. The hand that had slapped his bottom was now rubbing it gently and he heard a soft shushing sound from the bigger male, which made him aware of the fact that he was letting out a high whine as he was slowly filled up. His jaw snapped shut and he folded his arms on the trunk of the tree and rested his forehead against his arms. Effectively hiding himself away, he pushed his hips up for more and let out a shuddering breath whispering a soft ‘please’ over and over as Zarrek worked his length in a bit at a time.  The orcs breath was warm in his neck and he groaned when the thrusts began again, slow at first and pushing until they were flush against one another. Zarrek's hands were closed on his hips, large fingers stroking the sensitive skin that sloped towards his groin. 

“So nice.” Zarrek whispered in his ear and rocked his hips a bit faster. 

Owen bit at his lip and inhaled sharply when Zarrek's nails dug into him as the pace came harder. Each thrust felt like the thick cock was being pushed in so deep that he could swear his body was going to break. His legs were shaking and Owen reached down so he could curl his fingers around his length, squeezing the base and trying to hold back. His hand shook as he pressed his cock against his belly to try to stifle some of the arousal and he shuddered again at not just the feel, but the soft sound of Zarrek's balls clapping against his ass. 

“Sir!” Owen gasped, trying to warn him. “Please, Sir, I'm going to cum.”

“Good.” Zarrek growled, almost snarled into his ear. One large hand hastily reaching down so he could bay Owen's hand away and stroke his slim cock himself. “Cum for me Owen. Don't think of anyone but me when you do.”

Owen nodded and let his hands slap on the tree in front of him once more, using it for balance as Zarrek drove him higher, whimpering a curse when the strong hand pumped him. His fingers gripped the bark of the tree and he felt his jaw drop, unable to stop his hips from pumping back in quick jerks. He continued to plead quietly with his lover and his knees went weak as thick ropes of cum spilled over Zarrek's fingers and shot onto the grass below. Dizzily, he looked down at the hand that continued to hold onto him, fingers flexing to make sure Owen was completely spent. He belatedly noted that Zarrek was grunting louder now, his breath a little quicker. 

“Fuck… Owen.” 

“Sir.” Owen licked his lips and glanced over his shoulder, feeling nervous when he saw the snarl Zarrek sported. “Sir, are you going to cum inside me?”

“That what you want?” Zarrek's voice was harsh and he focused his gaze on Owen.

Owen nodded quickly and yelped when his dick was squeezed a bit before Zarrek pressed him against the tree, started pumping into him with enough force that he was lifted up on the balls of his feet. The massive orc was groaning into his ear, softly cursing under his breath. His tongue flicked out to lick Owen’s ear and the priest smiled when Zarrek said his name when he emptied his load into him. His cheeks flushed with color as the jet of jizz continued for a few seconds, the thrusts slowing. Zarrek pulled his hips back and sighed with relief, another small spurt streaking Owen’s cheeks. 

The orc held onto him, holding him up and nuzzling him briefly before helping to rearrange his robes once more, covering the cum stain without bothering to wipe it away. 

“Take a break if you need it. Then go see if the others need you.”

Owen blinked dizzily, blushing when Zarrek patted his bottom before pulling away further and pulling up his own pants, walking away in his typical silence. Was that how it would be then?  Owen leaned on the tree and turned to watch him go, his body sated but wishing he'd at least stayed a few minutes longer.  A blush started to creep up his cheeks when Zarrek’s words sank in.  So who would he need to take care of next?  Dipping his head down to hide his smile, he started to sink down to his knees so he could catch his breath before going to see the rest of his Hemtarl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owen gets to spend some quality time with Gart and Cadgar.

A little sore and tired from his quick fuck with the leader of the hemtarl, Owen straightened his robes as best he could and checked to make sure he wasn't too disheveled. He followed the slight ruts in the ground from the wheels of the wagon they had rode in on and started to look for the others. He wanted to see if Taruk was alright, but it almost seemed cruel to go see him after he’d just been beaten in a brawl to see who would lead.  And since he didn’t know exactly how a hemtarl worked, it might be better if he went and asked one of the others for clarification.  He didn’t want to break some sort of rule that they had or embarrass Taruk by going to give his condolences if that was seen as some sort of weakness to the others.

Orcs were complicated.  Owen let out a small huff and ran a hand through his hair, blinking when he found it slightly damp from exertion and the heat of the outdoors.  He flicked his fingers and then rubbed them on his robes, promising himself that he’d find a cloth or something to dry the sweat and other assorted mess off with.  He let his thoughts wander back to Taruk and how to deal with his defeat.  He had often seen the scout hanging out with one orc in particular, an orc who seemed to have more muscles than brain but certainly more heart than anyone he’d seen in a long time.  Gart was the type of man who snuck to the edge of the camp so he could leave the wild cats in the area some bits of meat and catnip that they grew in the garden.  He probably didn’t realize that Owen knew that and the healer was happy to let him stay oblivious to that fact.  He rather liked that Gart was secretive about his soft side, it was endearing to know that someone who practically burst out of the shirts he wore also had a penchant for cuddling kittens.

So if Gart was the sensitive type (even if he really didn’t want others to see it), then he would be the one to ask about this matter.  Satisfied with this line of thought, Owen moved towards where they were setting up the camp, his heart a little lighter with the reasoning he’d gone through and happy that he would assumably have someone to talk to.  He didn’t actually speak to Gart that often, but he’d seen him around the Garrison enough to know his name and be relatively comfortable opening up a conversation with him.

Making his way towards their little camp, he raised a hand when he saw that Gart was making a circle of rocks and stacking firewood, that way once the sun started to set they would be able to make a small fire in order to keep warm and cook their food.  Although apparently Owen’s food was the only one that was actually going to be properly cooked.  The rest of them would just be warming their meat over the fire enough to give it color and then slap it on their plates.  That thought alone made him feel slightly nervous of just being around the others for dinner, but he really needed to get used to all of this.  His heart squeezed at the thought of coming out on more hunts with his hemtarl and continuing this.

It wasn’t that he was hungry for sex (although that definitely had a massive appeal), but he loved the idea of this group.  The fact that they would watch out for him and trust him to watch their backs in turn.  It was better than just going out with a group of soldiers from the Garrison who traveled with him from a sense of duty or a need for money.  It was more tightly knit, bound in blood and more.  Of course that made him wonder, was it just him that was going to be sought out for sex or would the others also fool around amongst themselves?  Was this first foray going to be the only time that he was going to be treated as the communal whore or would it be changed around to the others depending on who won certain wrestling matches?  Not that he minded too much being the source of all their pent up passions, but it would be nice to have a break sometimes. In that case he might have to work on his grappling skills so he’d be able to come out on top at least once.

With his thoughts so pleasantly distracted, he nearly tripped into Gart when he got close enough.  The orc grinned and reached his thick hands up to catch him by the hips, easily keeping Owen standing upright with barely any effort on his part.

“I was hoping Zarrek would be finished with you soon.  Are you coming to join me, or will you join me then cum?” Gart laughed at his own joke. 

Owen couldn't stop the full face blush that made him feel like even the roots of his hair were burning. “I.. came to join you!” He managed to choke out even as Gart was pulling him down to sit in his lap. 

“And you have questions.” The amiable orc chuckled as he rubbed Owen’s shoulders, enjoying the way that the healer was doing his stout best not to curl up in a ball of embarrassment. “Go ahead, say and ask what you need.”

Owen rubbed his hands across his face briefly, taking a deep breath as he tried to think of what he should ask first. It all seemed so easy when he was walking over, but sitting on Gart’s lap made it rather hard. He folded his hands together and smiled awkwardly at the orc, relaxing as thick hands rubbed his hips and thighs. 

“I'm worried about Taruk. And I wasn't sure if it was okay for me to talk to him right away, or what would be appropriate to say to him right now.” Owen confessed quietly. 

“It's okay for you to talk to him.” Gart lightly pressed his forehead against Owen's. “But I know him pretty well and you might want to give him a little more time to lick his wounds.”

“But he’ll be alright? How serious is it that he lost to Zarrek?  He did really well I think, I mean all things considered.”

Gart ruffled Owen’s hair, making the healer frown in annoyance. “Traditionally, it's not so bad that he lost. Yeah he's not considered the leader of our hunt right now, but he can try again next time and no one will think less of him. And I think you're right, the fact that he lasted as long as he did speaks well for him. When we were in the ring, I saw how Zarrek fought and he's definitely an orc to be reckoned with. But Taruk is hurt in his pride, and he's gonna want time to himself. Go to him late tonight or maybe tomorrow and he’ll be done feeling sorry for himself.”

“So he's okay?” Owen could feel the crack raising in his voice before it broke and he cleared his throat as he looked down. 

Gart pulled him against his chest and ran a hand down his side, cupping the healers thigh and squeezing it gently. “He's okay.  ...Are you okay?”

Owen considered the question, glad that Gart was giving him time to really consider it. He was essentially a fuck toy for a group of orcs. He was seeing more violence and feralness than he was used to in the garrison. But they were treating him alright, and weren't being pushy and he wondered if that was because he was human or because this was his first time in a hemtarl. Would it have been like this if another orc had been with them because they would have known what to expect?  Owen breathed deep and lay his cheek against Gart’s chest, closing his eyes. 

“I can't deny this is unusual for me. But I want this.” His voice started sure but dropped to a mumble as he turned his head against Gart's chest and nuzzled there. “I want to learn and I want… to be part of this hemtarl.”

“Are you scared?” Gart’s hand went from his thigh to his ass and started petting there, reminding Owen of the dull ache that throbbed in his hole. 

“No, I trust all of you. Taruk trusts you, and he wouldn't have brought you together if he thought any of you would hurt me.” Owen lifted his chin to look at Gart. 

Gart looked satisfied with the answer and dipped down to kiss him. One large hand still cupping Owen’s ass while the other fisted in his hair. The healer felt his head being tipped back a bit and whimpered when Gart thrust his tongue into his mouth, hungrily sweeping inside and probing at him. The hard thrusts of his tongue making Owen’s body heat up all over again. It had been such a short time, hadn't it?  It didn't feel like long, but he was getting hard all over again because of the strong fingers gripping him and keeping him firmly in place. When he pulled back, Owen could swear his lips were bruised from the force and Gart eased up his touch to cup his cheek instead. 

“Still not scared, right?” Gart’s voice was rough and Owen shuddered as he felt the thick length trying to push towards him even through the thick leather pants. 

“Not yet.  What..” Owen swallowed, looking down as his voice trailed off. “What do you want me to do for you?”

There was a shuffle of clothing and Owen whimpered when Gart kissed him again, sucking on his lower lip and squeezing his ass hard this time, making Owen wince. Before he could start murmuring the spell words to ease the soreness of his hole, however, Gart had eased up and was playing with the buttons on Owen’s robe instead. Sharp nails flicked his nipples and Owen jolted at the unexpected touch. He watched Gart’s hands in a sort of stunned silence as his nipples were teased and tugged on, making him arch up into the firm twists of the orc’s fingers. When his eyes darted up to Gart’s own, a flush of heat  colored his cheeks when he saw how the orc grinned at him. Like he knew all the secrets in the world and he'd give them to Owen slowly, just as long as he submitted to whatever demands he made. 

A whimper passed his lips and Gart took Owen’s hand in his own, leading it to the laces on his trousers, silently telling him what to do.  Owen could feel his fingers shake, but he managed to pull the laces away, pushing leather aside so that the length all but slapped into his palms. 

Without a word, he looked down at the thick length, feeling his mouth water even as he curled his fingers around it and started to give it a firm stroke. He felt the coarse hair at the base of the cock and absently stroked his fingers through it. Gart seemed happy to let him take his time so Owen let out a slow breath, resting his forehead against the orcs shoulder. The soft sound of skin on skin all he could focus on. 

“If we keep doing this, will we have time to hunt?” Owen smiled a little sheepishly. 

“I'm sure that we’ll manage. This first night is kind of… celebration of us all coming together.” Gart kissed him softly and massaged the pert ass that he had a hold on. “Tomorrow we’ll get up and track a herd of mammoths or something.”

Owen laughed at the idea but the sound was barely past his lips when Gart leaned into him, kissing him to silence it. Owen sighed softly and brought a hand up, fisting it in Gart’s hair and tugging at him to keep him close. His other hand continued the firm strokes, a shudder rolling up his spine when Gart started thrusting into the tight squeeze of his palm. His robes were pushed up with some effort and he moved side to side to make sure it would be completely out of the way. Warm, calloused hands grasped his ass and he rocked himself against the thick length. He was still sore but he did his best not to whine when the muscled hands started massaging him. Panting quietly, Owen closed his eyes and squeezed his hand against the thick length, pulling up in firm strokes. 

Gart rested his forehead against Owen's, watching him for signs of discomfort and lightly kissing him so he could distract him. He loved the way the little healer squirmed and the soft noises he made whenever thick fingers rubbed against his pucker without pressing inside. Brushing his nose against Owen's, he sniffed softly, loving the way that the priest had the smell of sex already clinging to his ass and thighs thanks to Zarrek. 

Hearing soft footsteps, Gart looked up and motioned Cadgar to come and join him. The beast master looked amused almost and he came up behind Owen, resting his hands on the healer's back and gently massaging there even as Gart continued to grip him and thrust against him. Owen made a startled sound and his eyes opened wide when he felt the warm presence at his back. Cadgar seemed happy to simply touch and watch for the moment, however, and with some soft kisses placed to the column of his neck, he was soon getting back to the rhythm that Gart set for him. The warm cock in his hand looked inviting and he stared even as he stroked it, unsure of how to put into words that he wanted it. 

“You're staring awfully hard…” Gart rumbled as he cupped the back of Owen's head. “Get down there and have a closer look.”

The priest let himself be pushed down and soon it was Gart's hands resting on his head and shoulders while Cadgar was massaging his hips and thighs. Some small maneuvers had to be made so they could get comfortable, but soon he was eye to eye with the bulbous tip, breathing across it in soft pants as Cadgar moved his robes higher up. There was a soft whistle from the beast master, and Owen nearly choked when he felt thumbs at his still tender hole, pulling gently to get a good look at him. 

“Zarrek went a little rough on you.  No blood, of course, but he practically fucked you raw. You're nice and red here.” Cadgar’s words were embarrassing to hear, but more so was the feeling of fingers gently inspecting his ass and balls like he was a pet to be bred and taken care of. 

Owen wasn't sure if he was supposed to talk, so he leaned forward and started to kiss and lick Gart’s length. His eyes fell half closed when he raised up and played the tip of his tongue in slow circles around the head. Closing his lips around it, he almost jumped when he felt the firm press of lips on his ass cheeks, a quiet smacking sound when Cadgar kissed him and rubbed his thighs. He could tell from the hot breath getting closer what the beast master was planning next and he looked up at Gart with wide eyes.  A firm hand pressed his head down and he obediently opened his mouth, letting the cock slide down his throat as Cadgar's tongue began stroking his hole, flicking and circling it slowly. His hips squirmed as the tongue invaded his hole and Owen's eyes widened when he felt it sweeping inside him, curling and flicking against the tight muscles. When he jerked his hips, he felt a hand raise off his thigh and half expected to be spanked but Cadgar just rubbed his lower back and Owen heard a happy groan as he buried his tongue in deeper. As Gart was holding him by the back of his neck, shallowly meeting the bobbing of Owen's head down his cock; he felt Cadgar's hand squeezing his hip to keep his hips still in order to lick him until his legs felt weak. 

His eyes raised up to Gart, watching his expression as his tongue slid along the underside of the thick cock in his mouth. Swallowing around the mouthful, the priest pressed forward so the base was pressed to his lips,the scent of musk heavy all around him. Whimpering happily, his hips were making furtive movements, trying to buck back against the mouth that was working on his hole. He could feel the tip of the length working down his throat, rubbing down and opening him up so that it left a bit of a burn. Gart's fingers buried in his hair and Owen quickly brought his hands up to rest on the orcs hips and whimpered as he felt him jerking into him. 

Smiling down at him, Gart pulled out, admiring the confused look on Owen's face when he did so. He rubbed his cock against the softness of his cheek and watched as Owen turned his head to lick it, doing his best to kiss and suck what he could reach even as Gart jerked off against his face. The priest whined softly, trying to keep quiet, his ears practically burning red. He could hear Cadgar licking and kissing his hole, felt the spit running down to pool against his sac. He shuddered as strong hands pulled at his ass cheeks, a soft chuckle coming from Cadgar as he nipped the swell of Owen’s ass. The beast master looked up from his spot behind the healer and watched as Gart jerked off against Owen’s cheek, occasionally pulling back so he could rub his tip against his lower lip. 

Owen whined softly as the cock was kept just out of reach, making him stretch to try to suck even just the head. His eyes were a little glassy and he licked his lips as the tip rubbed his lower lip, pressing in just long enough for him to feel the silky sensation of skin gliding across his tongue before pulling out again. Looking up at Gart, he scowled a little, only slightly appeased when the orc moved closer and Owen could lick his heavy sac instead. The groan that came from Gart was enough to have his blood racing and he could make out how Gart was still stroking himself as Owen sucked and licked him, tasting the muskiness.  He heard a soft chuckle from Gart and the heavy sac was shifted up a bit, pressed hard against his nose, making a shudder run through him when the orc rocked against him, a drop of precum slipping from the tip of his cock and landing on Owen's cheek. He felt thumbs at his backside, pressing in before firmly pulling to give Cadgar more room, his tongue shoving into the space given, tasting the salt and sweat there. Owen’s eyes snapped open wide and his knees shook, forcing Gart to take hold of him by the shoulder and the back of his head. The smiling orc drew him into position and quickly pushed his cock down Owen's throat, filling him on both ends, though he felt a desperate need for more in his ass still. His moan was choked off by the length pressed down his throat, the strong hand in his hair curling tight and holding him in place as he started to thrust in quick bursts. Gart looked down at him, softly whispering under his breath little things that made Owen's ears burn. 

“You look so good like this, on your knees and servicing us both. I love the feel of your throat so tight around me.” Gart grunted and grinded his hips against Owen's mouth, his other hand coming up to hold Owen's head with both next, his thrusts getting harder and his breath coming faster. 

“Be careful with him.” Owen heard the beast master behind him chiding Gart, the soft licks momentarily stopping. 

“If he took Zarrek, he can take both of us.” Gart sounded unconcerned, but his thrusts did slow a little and he pulled out so Owen could take a full breath. 

Coughing briefly, Owen looked up with watering eyes, saliva running down his chin and a hint of a smile on his face. Cadgar was licking his asshole and balls and Gart cupped his cheek, checking to make sure he was alright before offering the thick cock again. The burly orc laughed when Owen all but attacked it, his eyes half lidded as he immediately went down to the base. Burying his nose in the thick thatch of pubic hair, Owen looked up as he swallowed around the length, bobbing his head shallowly. Gart was watching him in turn, reaching into his pocket and passing something to Cadgar that Owen couldn't see. He put it out of his mind, simply enjoying the feel of the meat sliding over his tongue and bumping the back of his throat. Until, that is, he felt the cool drip of oil sliding down the cleft of his ass and run across his hole. He could feel a warmth that at first he thought was a thick finger but when it pushed in with the aid of the oil he could hear a moan from Cadgar. 

Owen stopped, eyes wide as the prick gently rocked into him a little at a time. The oil helping with the hurt from the earlier fuck. Cadgar's hands were still rubbing his ass and thighs to help him relax. 

“That's it.” Gart growled and gripped his hair once more, “Are you ready for us?  Ready for our cum to mark you?”

Owen could feel a shift inside him as Cadgar leaned forward, one hand going to his shoulder and the other curling around him to undo his robes in the front, pushing fabric to the side so his clever fingers could start to tug and pinch Owen's nipples. Owen felt his body clench from the simple touch and Cadgar moaned again, starting a slow rhythm. Gart didn't wait for a nod or anything else, just smiled as he joined Cadgar in the steady rhythm. Owen panted as much as he could as the two began riding his mouth and ass in tandem. It was a slow pace that had him rocking between the two of them. His heart raced as the beast master filled him on one end and bottomed out, his sac lightly bounced against Owen's saliva slicked ass. Gart was taking his time now but Owen could see it was a strain for him not to force himself to go faster. His nipples were tugged and twisted slowly, nails pinching him until the skin reddened. Closing his eyes, he reached up and stroked Gart’s sac, gently pressing his fingers against the soft skin. He whimpered when he heard Gart hissing and the hand in his hair went tight. He could feel hot breath against the shell of his ear when Cadgar began whispering next. 

“I just love the feel of your ass hugging me tight. Like you can't get enough cock tonight. Honestly...I almost want to put up a tent just for you and we can have you stripped naked to wait for us as we go hunting.”

Owen moaned at the thought, knowing that he'd be embarrassed to be naked and vulnerable but curious about the anticipation that would build in him from waiting for each orc to take their turn. Or turns if they wanted to share like now. 

His thoughts were pulled up to Gart once more and he let out a muffled yelp when the thick length quickened it's thrusts into him. Gart was holding him firm again, leaving him to simply take the cock as it was offered. His hand went from Gart’s sac to his hip and he used the bit of leverage to make sure his lips weren't going to be too bruised by the force. He could hear Gart softly cursing and his mouth and throat we're flooded with cum, the orc pulling out so that a bit of it spurted onto the healer's face as well. 

“Swallow.” Gart groaned as he held Owen's head, looking down at him. 

Owen's mouth opened a little, slack jawed as strong but gentle fingers rubbed his cheeks. His mouth was full of the thick spunk and he closed it so he could do as he was told, his cock twitching from the demand in combination with the way that Cadgar was firmly rocking inside him. 

“Good lad.” Cadgar purred once Owen finished swallowing. “Are you ready for some more?  Ready for my cum to join Zarrek’s inside your ass?  Do you think you could cum just from me fucking you till your nice and loose?”

Hastily, Owen nodded, his tongue darting out to lick up the semen on his face, watching as Gart tucked himself back into his pants. Dimly, he was aware of Cadgar murmuring 'alright’ before he straightened up and placed both hands on Owen's hips once more. His blood pounded when he felt the quick roll of the beast master’s hips and Cadgar whispered that Owen looked lovely being mounted like a whore. The healer moaned and dropped his head, wanting to hide his arousal from the words. It wasn't long at all before Gart tipped his chin up again, sitting down so he could help lick the rest of the cum off his face before offering it to Owen with a kiss. Being pressed into the kisses with each firm thrust, Owen whined and reached forward again, nearly fumbling downward when Cadgar changed the pace to a quick fucking, sending the healer sprawling into Gart’s arms. He clutched at the orc’s chest and whimpered, listening to the moans from Cadgar and the quick slap of skin on skin. His own dick was bobbing up with each push to lightly touch his stomach, an ache growing in him. When he looked up to Gart, the orc smiled softly, reaching to firmly tug Owen's length in slow strokes. 

“That's it. Cum for us Owen. Feel that thick cock filling your ass and cum nice and hard for us.” Gart continued to whisper as he jerked Owen off. 

Crying out softly, Owen felt his thighs shake and heard Cadgar grunting out the words 'cum for us Owen, take our cocks and cum for us.’. 

His head felt light and his eyes started to roll back, firm hands massaging his ass even as it was pounded into. Gart's hands working his cock and nipples. He could swear his vision was going white as he shuddered and felt Gart’s arms curl around him, his lower back starting to ache a little. A quick jet of cum squirted from his cock head and he felt a bit escape Gart's firm grip to splatter his belly.  Whimpering, his fingernails scored Gart's chest when he felt cum flooding his ass once more and Cadgar moved to hug him from behind, still firmly lodged inside him. Exhausted, he felt kisses being laid on his neck and shoulders from both sides. 

“Good. You did so good.” Cadgar panted softly in his ear, patting his side. 

“Can't wait to get my turn fucking his ass.” Gart laughed softly. “You should feel his mouth next.”

“Maybe when he wakes up.” The beast master laughed. 


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarrek goes to talk to Taruk about their brawl and make sure things are alright.

Taruk rubbed a hand through his hair, still scowling as he recalled how easily Zarrek had defeated him. Perhaps it wasn't as noticeable to the others in the group but he knew the older orc had been holding himself back. He wasn't toying with him during the fight, but Taruk had the distinct impression that it was more like a fight between mentor and student. It wasn't as though he begrudge the other man for winning, not completely. It would have been nice to lead the group. But his real intent had been Owen. The human led their Garrison and trusted him to set up this group. He was always so shy when it came to being flirted with and Taruk was a little protective of him. He had wanted to win so he could be the one to give Owen all the assurances that he would be safe. He wanted Owen to look at him with that barely hidden hunger. He wanted to be the first that night to mark the priest with cum and whisper that he belonged to him, to all of them, but most importantly him. 

It was selfish of course, there was no denying that. But it didn't feel wrong to be so possessive of the priest. Owen had proven himself a capable warrior and commander, had shown various times that he had a soft heart. If he had to choose a human then any orc would agree that Owen was ideal as a partner. 

But Zarrek had won, and Taruk was sure that the elder orc had claimed Owen immediately. He hadn't stayed to watch, but he had been close enough to hear the moans and grunts from them both. He had to put up the tent and do his best to ignore the way his cock pressed against his leathers, his sac aching with the need to release all his seed. It wasn't as though he would be denied the pleasure of Owen later, but he wanted to be the first that day. And he wanted to win that brawl to show Owen that he was the best. Feeling the human's eyes on him had given him such a rush and he longed to see those wide eyes up close. He could vividly picture the way Owen's lips would part with quiet moans as Taruk bent him nearly in double and made him hold onto his own ankles while Taruk slowly fingered his tight hole open. 

Gritting his teeth, he let out a slow breath. Imagining what he would do wasn't making this any easier and he still needed to put Owen's things inside his tent. He moved away from the tent and over to the wagon where all their things were stored. So many things that Taruk hadn't thought necessary, but apparently we're important to humans. Should he go about digging a latrine space then?  It would give him something to do, make him move and focus on something besides his loss. Huffing quietly, he grabbed the shovel and Owen’s sleeping bag. He took the sleeping bag to the tent and tucked it inside, unfurling it with a quick flick of the wrist and making sure it wasn't laying on some rocks before going out again. 

Passing by Cadgar, he nodded briefly, grunting in their native tongue that Owen's tent was up and ready for him. The other orc looked a bit worried about him and Taruk shrugged it off, making a motion with his hands. He wasn't dead and that was what was important. He could still do the things he wanted, it would just take time. He could be with Owen and show him how good being in a hemtarl was, it would just take time. 

He hated being patient. Growling softly, he took a look around. If the waters were to the north and they didn't want to do a mad dash to the latrine in the middle of the night… he struck out in one direction and started to measure his steps. Not too close to the camp but not so far that it was troublesome. He found a spot that was shaded by trees because he knew Owen would want some privacy. The others wouldn't care as long as there were leaves nearby that wouldn't leave them itchy. 

Smiling faintly to himself, Taruk let his mind wander as he dug the hole and moved the dirt close by so it could be covered over once they were done. They likely wouldn't be out here for too many days so he didn't think it needed to be too deep. If it wasn't enough, he could always dig another one. 

Moving the dirt aside, Taruk paused when he heard a quiet grunt. Turning, he tensed a bit when he saw that Zarrek was there. Finished with Owen so quickly? How could he be though? Didn't Zarrek enjoy the sweet soft skin and pert backside?  What sort of fool was he that he would just get a quick release and walk away?

“You're angry.” Zarrek cleared his throat. 

“No, you won fair, it's only right you lead. That's how we decide things.”

“Not angry then, upset.” the older orc crossed over to him and leaned on a tree. 

He was like a mangy dog with a bone, not about to let go until he got what he wanted. Taruk sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair, meeting the ruddy orc’s bright red eyes. 

“What I feel isn't of consequence. If I'm angry or upset, it doesn't matter because it doesn't affect our hunt. You lead and I follow. Next time I try harder. Maybe I’ll lose again, maybe I’ll win. We were both in those fighting pits. We both know how to be patient.” Taruk answered quietly and dug deeper into the hole, grunting softly. 

“Then we're alright?”

“We are fine. I wouldn't have asked you here if I didn't think you could handle all this. I just thought I could beat you. That's all.”

Zarrek smiled at this and rubbed his knuckle under his nose with a soft chuckle. He didn't have to say a word, Taruk could see it in his eyes. It was foolish to think he could beat the older orc. Growling quietly, he stuck the shovel into the ground and leaned on it. He motioned the elder to just say what he was thinking and Zarrek laughed shaking his head. 

“Boyo, you're a good fighter, but it's going to take a long while before you can beat me.”

“Why did you want to lead then? What pushed you to want to guide the hemtarl?”

Zarrek considered this for a moment and rubbed at his chin in thought. What had he wanted to lead for? He shrugged absently and sighed quietly. 

“Because it felt right? Because it's normal to lead for me.  Gart and Cadgar, they love to fight, but they're just as happy to stay on the sidelines, take orders from either of us. But they know you more than they know me. I had to win so they could see me lead and respect me.”

Taruk wanted to argue that Gart and Cadgar would still respect him even if they hadn't fought. But their society didn't really work that way. They had to see Zarrek in a fight that wasn't for the pit, something that was restrained with reason. They needed to see how he settled things during a hunt and divided up the chores as well as the spoils. If they didn't like how he led it would break their hemtarl. What they worked hard to create would be wrecked so easily. 

Taking a breath, Taruk nodded in agreement and offered his hand to Zarrek to shake. The elder orc took it without hesitation and pulled him into a hug squeezing him firmly. 

“You want to go see Owen now?  He's had everything explained. He wants this.”

Taruk knew that, he had heard the sounds as he was pounding in the stakes of the tent. But he recognized it as more than just Zarrek pointing out that he'd just fucked Owen. He was saying it to gently mention that the human was ready and willing. For a few moments Taruk simply held onto the handle of the shovel, his mind lost in thought about Owen holding his cheeks open, embarrassed but wanting to be filled. 

“Maybe a little later. I'd like to grab something to eat.”

“You sure?  You look like you could use a visit to him right now.” Zarrek grinned and motioned to Taruk’s crotch. 

The courier huffed and shook his head a little but didn't pull away as Zarrek moved closer to him. The older orc cupped him through his leathers and started to rub and squeeze him slowly until Taruk had to relinquish his grip on the shovel and hold onto the other orc instead. 

“Fuck.” Taruk gasped quietly as his pants were undone,  a strong warm hand grasping his cock and slowly stroking. 

Looking at Zarrek through half lidded eyes, Taruk moved closer and let the older orc push him back against a tree. His leathers were shuffled down just enough to give Zarrek room and he cupped Taruk’s balls, stroking a calloused thumb across them and then leaning in so he could lick them. 

“You've been looking forward to Owen sucking your cock since we started out on the road haven't you?” Zarrek spoke quietly and gently pulled back the foreskin so he could lick the tip directly. 

“Was hoping he'd agree to this.” Taruk grunted and reached for Zarrek only to have his hands batted away. He let his head fall back and whispered a soft curse when the strong fingers moved in a massaging motion, rolling up from the base and making him arch with the touch. 

Zarrek stared up at Taruk and started to kiss and lick his cock, making the other orc push up on the balls of his feet in a need for more. Sucking the tip had him panting and he firmly squeezed the base to keep him from blowing his load too fast. He had a lot to teach these young orcs and he wanted to see that understanding in Taruk’s eyes that he was the dominant here. 

“How long have you wanted to fuck his pretty little ass?” the question was spoken softly enough but there was an undertone there that Taruk had to answer. 

“Ah.. ah.. since a few weeks after he picked us up.” Taruk whined as he was rewarded with Zarrek’s mouth swallowing him down and bobbing briefly before pulling off. “Fuck don't stop..”

“You don't have to worry about me stopping. Just relax and enjoy. I'm here to take care of all of you, not just Owen.” Zarrek spoke in a low tone, not like he was trying to keep what they did secret but more to instill the fact that this was just the two of them out in this section of the woods. 

Taruk didn't bother to muffle his sounds, he had never been ashamed of being given pleasure in any form and he wasn't about to play the blushing elf to Zarrek’s barbarian orc. The thought made him choke on a laugh and he gasped, looking down when the older orc squeezed him lightly and started licking his sac. A calloused thumb rubbed across his tip and he hissed when he was pinched before Zarrek went down his length again. The older orc let him buck his hips, even encouraged him to pump quickly but any time his hands came near they were swatted away again. Despite the tusks and teeth, Zarrek never accidentally nicked him. The only sharpness was the blunt fingernails scraping along his thighs and once a hard hand pulled him away from the tree so he could spank Taruk. 

This was a sort of roughness he couldn't bring himself to do with Owen for fear of scaring him or hurting him and as Taruk looked down at Zarrek he knew what it was for. One hand gripped Taruk’s ass cheek, guiding and shoving him down his throat with a wet sloppy sound of tongue slipping across thick meat. Zarrek suspected he might need something faster and harder so he was taking care of him, just like he said. But if Taruk wanted something rough, he had to accept that Zarrek was in control, as always. It was understandable. Taruk just wished that he had thought of the same when he had the urge to lead the hemtarl. 

Letting his head fall back against the tree, he gripped the bark and let out a slow breath, his hips jerking forward into the warmth and wetness of Zarrek's mouth. Taruk glanced down and shuddered as he watched Zarrek work his length, caressing his sac as he bobbed his head down easily. The younger orc wasn't so conceited to think he had mammoth proportions, but he wasn't small either and Zarrek still swallowed the whole of his cock without gagging. Definitely no gagging, but there was a grin on his face when he pulled off, a line of spit leading from his lips to Taruk's dick. That firm hand squeezed him firmly and carefully pressed down on his sac to keep him from cumming. Taruk panted for breath and started to squirm a bit but Zarrek refused to stroke or lick him until he was calmed down again, his breath even and the dark desperate color of his cock starting to fade so Zarrek knew he was still aroused but not about to spill his seed all across his face and chest. 

The courier wanted to curse and scream when Zarrek used small licks on his tip, not quite tickling as he played with him and wetted the head so each breath that fell across his cock practically made it tingle. It wasn't mature to whine but there was definitely a sad sound coming out of Taruk when the elder orc started to slowly kiss his cock again, full lips threatening to swallow him again when he kissed and sucked the underside then the tip again but he wasn't pressing his head down again. Little nibbles went down the length of his cock and he raised up on the balls of his feet a bit when the plush lips pressed on his sac again before opening and giving them the same loving slurps and sucks that he had Taruk's cock. He swore he could almost see stars when the calloused palm jerked him off slowly and one strong hand scooped behind him to cup his ass, briefly stroking his hole but pulling away when he jerked away from it. Zarrek murmured a quiet apology but there was no need for more. Taruk couldn't think straight when the older orc licked him from base to tip and quickened the pace of his hand. 

“Won't be the same with Owen and his pretty pink ass.” Zarrek said quietly. “Can't get rough because humans have thinner skin than us. You sure you can hold back when you've got him bent over a log, watching the way his hole swallows you up so tightly..?”

“Nn… not a log.” Taruk groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head back. “In his tent. With those pillows and the bedroll he said he needed.”

Zarrek laughed at this but Taruk could tell that it wasn't directed at him. “Humans are so soft. You and Cadgar.. I can't see your fascination with them.”

Taruk let out a soft laugh and pulled himself back a bit, groaning as Zarrek simply held him while he waited for an explanation. Sighing quietly, he licked his lips and squirmed once more, his voice soft when he started to speak. 

“It's because they're soft. To the touch at least. Orc and draenei, we've grown up here where we have to be hard to survive. Whether it's fighting ogres or cutting out a place for our families in the wild, we learn to grow harder, get more muscle. Humans do too, to an extent, but they stay softer.” 

His lips curled in a warm smile, thinking of Owen and his soft thighs. The sweet curve of his ass and the warmth in his spirit. There was strength in Owen, he had seen it when he broke them out of the Pit. But the same breath that cast spells also worried about mending their clothes. He ensured that everyone had weapons and that there was enough scraps for the wild cats so Gart could give extras to them when no one was looking. Owen had seen horrific things in war but refused to let himself be bitter about it because he saw that things could be better. That  _ people _ could be better, and he insisted on doing what he could to make those things be seen in the world. Hate and spite was not a default in his mind, it was the way of those who were twisted and hurt. And of course, Owen was a priest. He sought to heal whether the wound was physical or spiritual. 

Zarrek raised a brow when Taruk went silent as he thought of all Owen's best qualities. He squeezed the younger orc’s length and smiled as Taruk groaned and shifted his hips in a lazy roll up into Zarrek's fist. It was sweet how Taruk thought of Owen and held him in such regard, and Zarrek had to be honest, he approved of the human as a leader. He had his doubts when Owen first found them. Thought that he was too soft and that he would want to make the orcs behave like green skinned humans. But he understood the cultural differences and made accommodations for them just like every other race in the Garrison. Still, there was something more when Taruk looked at Owen. 

“You want him?” Zarrek cupped Taruk's balls again, licked up the musky length and sucked the tip. 

“Want him… or want him to have me.” Taruk strained a bit, his eyes going wide as blunt nails scraped his thighs, the warm mouth going down to his base in one quick swallow. 

He let out a strangled cry as Zarrek started bobbing his head, pieces of bark breaking off under Taruk's fingertips. Zarrek moved his head quickly up and down with soft slurping sounds, massaging one thick thigh next to his head. He pushed himself down to the base and sucked the thickness, ensuring that Taruk could feel his throat fluttering around the tip. The younger orc moaned and Zarrek could feel the thigh shaking under his hand. He moved his head quickly, meeting each pump as Taruk tried desperately to get as deep inside him as he could. He had no idea how long it had been for Taruk, but it was probably good to take the edge off for him. His hand moved up along the shaking thigh and he casually slapped Taruk's ass, making him jolt and little bit of pre spit from his tip. Zarrek could feel drool coming down his chin and at the edges of his mouth as he moved and he grinned around the mouthful, turning his head as he pulled away a bit. He took a proper breath once his throat was no longer busied with the beastial length and he rubbed the tip against the inside of his cheek, mouth hanging open. 

Taruk whined quietly and cursed, feeling the drool trail down his cock and drip warmly onto his sac. Zarrek was just playing with his tip now, tongue lashing it and lips closing around it so he could suck casually. 

“You ready to blow your load yet, Taruk?” Zarrek quickly pumped what wasn't in his mouth, a slick sound of flesh on flesh slapping together. “You want to cum yet, or do you think you can hold out like a real orc?”

Taruk stared down at him, slack jawed and straining to pump his hips into the tight fist and dirty mouth. When Zarrek opened his mouth wide, he could see just how dark his tip was. The veins of his cock pressing outwards were getting little rubs and kisses. But even as he wanted to cum hard and empty himself in Zarrek's mouth, he had to grit his teeth and look up to keep it from happening. Zarrek was obviously challenging him and he wasn't sure if it was a tease or not, but he felt like he had to stave it off a little longer. 

“Maybe you'd prefer it if I go and get Owen for you?” The older orc spoke casually. He pulled off and rolled the flat of his tongue around the head. “Maybe you want to have Owen sit in front of you and open his mouth wide, waiting for you to feed him your jizz?”

Taruk dug his nails into his palms, able to clearly see the plump lips open and needing. The human’s eyes closed as soft splatters of cum landed on his face and dripped from his forehead downward. Surely Owen would be so shocked and embarrassed if Taruk brought it up, but in his mind he had worked his priest up to the point that he begged for it. Professional as ever when emissaries came to visit but then once the doors were locked he would have Taruk sit down and hide himself under the desk to suck him off. Taruk huffed and panted, one eye sliding open and a moan rolling from him when Zarrek teased his tongue against his cock head to lap up the cum there. 

Zarrek was gripping his cock firmly, his mouth open so he could playfully slap the length against his tongue when he stuck it out. “Gotta admit, I've kinda missed sucking cock. Maybe I’ll do this for Owen tomorrow once we're back from hunting. He'd look really good all milked dry and squirming, wouldn't he?  Maybe I’ll share him with you, get you to eat his ass and loosen him up. We can all take turns making sure he wants to come on another hunting trip soon. Cadgar can play with his nipples, kiss him and cuddle him while we're making sure he can't feel his legs in the morning.”

All the while he described this, Zarrek was licking and stroking, his free hand absently pinching his own nipples. Taruk was a bit distracted by the sight of the ruddy orc shoving his shirt up and showing off his hairy chest, calloused fingers plucking at dark black nipples. The older orc saw him looking and smirked, lazily sliding his fingers through the coarse hair and lightly twisting one nipple before dragging down and cupping himself through his leathers. When he undid his laces, he sighed with relief and then started stroking it gently, kissing the tip of Taruk's cock. 

“Yeah… you want Owen. Want to keep him, but we both want to wreck him too. Want to see his ass spread round our cocks...both of us taking turns holding him up and bouncing him between us. Blindfold him and make him guess who's dick he's being fucked with. Soak him in our cum until his pretty pink skin is shiny with it.” Zarrek growled as he squeezed Taruk's base, gripping as he shoved him back on the tree. “You gonna cum?”

“Yes, fuck!  Stop stopping just fucking suck me or jerk me, I don't care.” Taruk found himself babbling and yelped when Zarrek flicked his dick near the base, making him groan in pain. 

The older orc stood up slowly then, smirking as he stroked himself but batted Taruk's hands away from his own cock. 

“Pull your pants up. At least as much as you can. Go see Owen and give your cum to him. Make sure he swallows it all. Don't want to waste any of that.” Zarrek slapped his thigh and grunted as he began tucking himself away, only getting about half into his pants. The top three inches peeked up over the waist of his leathers like a surprise. “I'm going to see if Cadgar or Gart want to get fucked while you take care of Owen.”

Taruk made a sound that was most definitely not a whine and let his head fall back against the tree.  He looked at the latrine and then over at Zarrek.  He supposed that would have to do, and they could dig another one later if it was really necessary.  Struggling a bit, he tugged his leathers back up and loosely folded the top section over his dick.  There was no chance of getting that back inside now.  Plus… he had orders from his leader.  Couldn’t disappoint Zarrek now could he?  Taruk grinned as he picked up the shovel, whistling softly as he and the older orc parted ways.  Briefly, he wondered how things would go between Zarrek and his other two friends, but that would be something he worried about  _ after _ he took care of Owen.


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taruk finally gets his chance to be alone with Owen

Taruk rubbed a hand across his chest, his thick digits catching on the buttons of his shirt that he quickly undid in an effort to get some more air. Being with Zarrek had wound him up and he had never really expected to be serviced by the older orc. He didn't know what it was exactly that led to that idea. Perhaps it was because he was normally so silent that one could never tell what he was thinking. The other orc was always generous when it came to the simple things. He had seen Zarrek sliding cuts of meat over to others at the mess hall table, claiming he was already full. He had seen him helping out with chores that weren't his to be bothered with, watering plants and weeding in the garden. He didn't even care what race you came from, as long as you could pull your weight in the Garrison.

Finding the tent that he'd set up for Owen, he slipped the cloth entry up to see the human sprawled on a sleeping bag. The poor priest hadn't even bothered to go inside it, he was laying on top of it in a daze, not quite ready to go to sleep. His heart beat double quick as he moved in, a smile tugging at his lips as he went inside and let the cloth flop back into place behind him. The light was almost all blocked out by the brown cloth of the tent and Taruk stared at Owen, realizing that there was a faint glow to his skin. Not a figurative one, but a literal sheen on his skin that created tiny shadows with anything close by. Sitting down at his side, Taruk reached to run his fingers through Owen’s dark hair, slowly rousing him fully. 

“Mmmf?” The priest looked at him with groggy eyes and smiled as he began to push himself up from the sleeping bag.

“No, no, stay comfortable. You're… shiny.” Taruk frowned as the words came out of his mouth. It sounded ridiculous, but it was true.

Lifting his arm up, Owen yawned as he let his sleeve fall back and blinked at the sudden glow that he was presented with. To Taruk’s surprise he actually snorted out a laugh and then put his head back down. His voice was slightly muffled by the pillow and the scout had to lean down so he could hear it better, resting a hand on the sleeping bag beside Owen’s shoulder.

“I've been using spells on myself to… help with my tasks?” Owen slowly pressed his face closer to the pillows to soften his voice, embarrassed.

“How do spells help?” Taruk looked at him oddly and then let his deep black eyes rove down Owen's body to try to see if there was anything else unusual.

Without thinking, he reached for Owen and helped him to turn over, undoing the first few buttons of his robes.

“The spells… they uh…” Owen looked away as Taruk began to undo his clothes and slowly curled his fingers in the sleeping bag. “Healing spells for when it got a little too rough. Nothing bad, just a little excited you know. We both were. And there are spells to relax the muscles so..”

Taruk started to smile faintly as he looked down at Owen, tilting his head as the priest fumbled with his words and tried to explain without drawing attention to himself. A hard task when his skin was glowing like candlelight.

“So then, why does this make you glow even now?  Hasn't it been some time since you and the others dallied?”

“What time is it?” Concerned, Owen sat up and made like he wanted to move past Taruk to look outside.

“Time for you to rest, for one.” The scout shook his head and then crawled up, lifting one arm up over the pillow so he wouldn't put all his weight on it and make it fall asleep. “But if you want to be more specific, it's just past sun down.”

Owen looked at him in surprise when a thick arm curled around him, insistently pulling him against the orc’s chest. Taruk looked just as worn down as Owen felt after his rounds of sex with the other three orcs of the Hemtarl. Laying a hand on his chest, he played with the small tufts of chest hair that peaked out where Taruk's shirt was open. His own robe was open to just past his pectorals and Taruk was idly drawing circles with the tip of one finger.

“Didn't… didn't you come here for..?” Owen squirmed, unable to put the words out in the air between them. Despite what he'd done earlier, he'd never let Taruk see him in anything less than full dress. The scout was silent but smiling at him, as if that answered anything at all!

Owen pulled in a breath as he was tugged in against Taruk's chest and a strong hand rubbed down his back in slow strokes. Resting both hands on Taruk's chest, he spread the opening of the orc’s shirt and turned his head so he could listen to the other's heart beating. The steady thump just under his ear and slow rise and fall of his chest lulling him to relax again.

“Did you want this to be a Hemtarl when you left?”

The hand on his back paused for just a moment and then began again, rubbing the base of his spine before gliding up again. Hard tusks pressed against his head when Taruk kissed him and he listened to the soft growl as the scout considered his words.

“Finding the ones who I did was… natural. I didn't think about it, I just took orcs I knew would work well together. I don't think it was conscious on my part.” Taruk admitted in a quiet voice, never stopping in his gentle touches.

The priest absently squeezed Taruk and snuggled against him. “So then, you didn't mean for me to become part of your group. This was happenstance?”

Before his heart could drop at all, strong arms squeezed him tighter and a gruff voice murmured “no”. The hand rubbing his back pressed down further and cupped his bottom, groping it as he began to grind against him. He had never quite closed up his pants all the way, simply let his shirt hang over his erection to hide it from Owen's eyes. That made it easy now to rub it against the soft robes, feeling the tight bunch of muscle underneath.

“I have wanted you for a long while now. Almost since I met you.” Taruk let out a slow breath and closed his eyes.

Pushing his hands on Taruk's chest, Owen pulled back so he could look at him. He could feel the erection pressing against him and was stunned by how strong the urge to drop down and taste it was. His heart thumped in his chest even as his mouth watered. His lower jaw clenched minutely and he kissed Taruk's collarbone before looking up at him. The scout felt his breath hitch as Owen let his kisses move up just slightly, tongue grazing the divot of his throat. Feeling the strong hands coming to rest on his hips, the priest could feel his tension eeking out of him a little at a time.

Taruk grunted softly and rolled onto his back, letting Owen lay on top of him. Smiling at his priest, he started shuffling up his dark blue robes a little at a time until he could get his hands under the robe and grabbed his bottom again. “I've wanted you. As my own and in my Hemtarl.” Taruk paused to let his head fall back, enjoying the way Owen moved against him but still trying to talk. “I'm not the leader here, though. Does that make you want me less? Do you want me at all?”

“I'm not leading the Hemtarl either.” Owen peeked up at him after delivering another kiss. “Does your wanting me change whether I'm here or at the Garrison?”

“No.  Nothing changes.” Taruk swallowed and curled his fingers in Owen's hair.

“Nothing changes.”

The priest offered a small smile, inhaling as Taruk gave his ass a squeeze. Reaching back, he started to murmur a healing spell, only to have Taruk kiss him to quiet the words. Dazed as the strong tongue stroked inside his mouth, he opened up under it and reached a hand up to fist in Taruk's hair. Tusks scraped his lower lip, making him open wider to let out a soft yelp, the sound sliding into a moan easily when Taruk moved his hands. Broad fingers were spread on his thighs, moving him slowly and keeping him in place.

“How sore are you right now?”

“I can cast a spell--” Owen started.

“That's not what I asked.” Taruk looked at him with a faint frown, his fingers moving to toy with Owen's knee next and tickle him. “You don't need to use all your mana in a hurry.”

“I'm sore.” Owen answered even as he tried to muffle his words against Taruk's chest, his cheeks darkening. “But I can take it.”

“I know you can. You took Zarrek.” Taruk was surprised to find that he wasn't jealous as he said this. “He didn't waste any time did he?  I can't blame him, wanting to fuck you right away.” 

Owen looked up and Taruk found himself sinking into the priest's blue eyes. Bending himself down, he groaned as he took a kiss and squeezed Owen’s thighs. The priest was doing his best to rub against his thigh for friction and Taruk let his hands still so he could just watch the way the human moved.

“Sit up for me.” The scout rasped, lust making his voice thick.

Even if he was embarrassed, Owen was obedient. He wanted Taruk to be happy and he hoped he could be the one to make him happy by swallowing his cock. When he sat up, Taruk hastily undid his robes and tossed them over to the side. Looking at Owen's body in what little light there was, he could see that the priest wasn't some simple waifish thing. He smiled as he petted the priest's slowly growing muscles, his fingers stroking his nipples and lightly plucking them.

“Hands behind your back.” Taruk ordered quietly when he saw Owen reach for him.

There was barely a moments hesitation before Owen put his hands behind him and clasped his fingers together to keep from reaching out again. His thighs squeezed Taruk's hips and he met each soft kiss, whining when it was kept gentle and fingertips only lightly grazed his nipples. Taruk watched him with a careful eye, applying more pressure and firmly tugging to make Owen arch his back in an effort to lessen the intensity. It was a marvel to him that the priest hadn't already been snatched up by someone. True, he didn't enjoy fighting, but he was capable and there was strength there in his mind and body.

“Wait, I should be--”

“You should be enjoying this.  You just need to let me touch you, let me watch you.” Taruk smiled as he scratched his blunt nails down Owen's chest and started to rub his thumbs in small circles at his hip bones. “You are stunning, we are so lucky to have you with us.”

Taruk avoided his gaze when Owen looked at him. Not wanting to deal with questions, he brought the priest up higher and trapped a nipple between his teeth. Sucking it lightly, he smiled when both of Owen's hands came up suddenly and gripped him tightly to his chest. The priest’s half hard erection was bobbing as he swayed on Taruk's lap, growing harder the more he played with his chest and thighs. His tusks rubbed the soft skin of Owen's chest as he moved from one nipple to the other, suckling it and then nipping to see how long it would take for him to break down and ask for more. Smiling crookedly, he lifted his dark eyes up to meet Owen's own and he could swear his heart stopped for just a moment.

The fingers curled in his hair, tightening briefly before sliding down his back. Nails only a bit sharper than his own left scores down his spine and he could imagine the dark brown lines that would mark him as Owen's as solidly as any mark they left on the priest marked him as belonging to the Hemtarl.

“What…?” Kiss bruised lips parted as Owen looked at him in confusion.

It struck him just then that no matter how long they were together, Owen would never cease to amaze him. His self conscious Garrison leader with the stellar ability to heal, would hold his heart from now until the world itself came apart. Reaching for Owen's hands, he kissed his palms, not taking his eyes off him as he did so. Words of love stuck in his throat and the scout bowed his head to kiss both hands again.

“I’ll tell you later.” He chuckled and nipped Owen's thumb when it brushed the corner of his mouth and traced up his tusk. “It's not urgent.”

“Promise?”

“I swear, on my honor.”

Owen felt his cheeks heat up but before he could think too much about what would require an oath like that, Taruk kissed him again. The orc lifted his shirt up and grunted as he got it over his head so he could toss it over where Owen's shirt was resting. Owen’s eyes lit up a bit and he reached for the thick erection that was pushing up over the band of his pants. His fingers curled around it as Taruk kissed his neck, breathing heavily across his collarbone. The priest swallowed and worked his hand in a slow rhythm, listening to the way Taruk groaned for him and twitched his hips up into Owen's fist. He could tell that the scout wanted to do more but he was holding back for Owen. Placing a kiss to Taruk’s jaw, he rolled his thumb across the tip and pressed on it softly.

“Taruk, tell me what you want.” Owen licked his lips, resisting the urge to sink down and start sucking the thick brown cock. His mouth watered and he tried to distract himself by kissing Taruk’s shoulders.

“I want to make you happy. I want to suck your cock.”

Considering it had pretty much been the other way around with the orcs sating themselves with him, it had Owen surprised. His hand paused and for a few seconds he was very still as Taruk began to kiss and suck his way down Owen’s chest. The orc smiled as he lay back and he crooked a finger to get his priest to crawl up his body so he could get a taste of him. He could see a slight tremble in Owen’s thighs when he came to straddle his face, but to Taruk’s surprise, he then turned and rested his hands on Taruk’s chest to keep himself balanced. Turning Owen's hips down to make it easier, Taruk smiled as he took the tip in his mouth and Owen made a sweet sound as he went lax against him. He couldn't talk with his mouth occupied so he started rubbing Owen's hips and thighs.

His dark haired priest moaned and lightly moved his hips in slow thrusts, as if he was unsure about how fast he could move. His hands moved on Taruk's chest to the sleeping bag, not wanting to put all his weight down and hurt Taruk. The smooth wetness glided along his cock in slow strokes, making him whimper as the orc rubbed his thighs and rested a hand on the small of his back to press him down. Work calloused fingers stroked across his sac and pressed in careful circles to see how sore he was. Owen was a bit stunned that he had anything left in him but he must have rested well when he crashed after his tryst with Cadgar and Gart. Moaning quietly, he smiled as he rested his cheek on Taruk’s thigh. The position put his face close to the orc’s erection and he licked his lips as he wrapped his fingers around it again. Taruk was swallowing him at a slow, easy pace, occasionally growling as he pulled Owen's hips to keep him close. The agile tongue played with him, teasingly curling around his length before Taruk pulled back and nuzzled his sac. The loss of warmth around his cock made the priest whine, but he happily shuddered when Taruk kissed his inner thigh, whispering how much he loved the taste of him.

Owen groaned softly and moved himself up just enough that he could open his mouth and start mouthing the base of Taruk's cock. He could practically feel the veins pulsing on his tongue and shifted his hips, wanting to feel Taruk sucking him again. The silent request was met with tender kisses to his sac and up his taint before the talented lips went back to his cock. Panting, his eyes fell half closed and he pressed soft kisses of his own, almost too distracted as he made his way to the tip and sucked on the head. He was already hot from the heat of the night pressing in on them, but the added warmth of the cock being rushed over his tongue and bumping the back of his throat made him squirm. He could practically feel the salty stickiness and his nerves felt like they were vibrating against his bones as he pushed his head down in quick strokes. He could hear Taruk curse quietly and grinned as he cupped his balls as well, wanting to do so well that his poor orc forgot about sucking him for just a little longer. That subtle bit of power he felt with Taruk's cock in his mouth made him feel giddy.

Gasping, Owen tried to look under him at Taruk. The orc had strong arms around his waist and was swallowing him to the hilt. His throat flexing around Owen's cock, a look of concentration on his features. Owen gasped softly and pumped Taruk, moaning against the tip and shaking as Taruk forced him into quick shallow thrusts into his mouth. The scout was working him over insistently and Owen didn't know how he could do this so well when his own tongue was rolling around the head of his cock. His thoughts were hazy and he felt his heart flutter as he kissed the tip and flicked his tongue just under the head. Words fell apart in his mouth the more he pressed Taruk's cock inside, sliding back as deep as he could. His lips tensed around the thickness, wondering how quickly he could get addicted to way Taruk was moving him like his weight was nothing at all. He wasn't a small man but every time he was lifted he was reminded of the match that Taruk and Zarrek had. Whimpering, he closed his eyes, picturing the way their muscles bunched as they grappled with each other. The strain of the leathers across thick chests and low grunts when either of them found an opening.

Thick fingers squeezed his thighs and he could feel Taruk starting to thrust up into his mouth, a muffled grunt coming from his scout in between messy slurps. Panting softly, Owen bobbed his head and lightly squeezed Taruk's thigh, trying to tell him he was getting closer without taking his lips off the delicious length. Whining quietly, he finally began to pull up only to feel Taruk's fingers tangle up in his hair and urge him down again. His thighs shuddered at the man handling and he tensed, trying not to come too quickly. Feeling the hand in his hair and the hips pressing up so the cock in his mouth was pushed into his throat, he couldn't help enjoying it. Obviously Taruk was enjoying it as well and the scout was hurrying him to swallow every last inch. His hips worked up in quick thrusts and Owen smiled, realizing his lips might end up just a bit bruised from the attention. Closing his eyes, he sucked happily and moaned as Taruk held him down to the base, making it so all he could do was swipe his tongue and swallow.

“Fuck… swallow it.” Taruk ordered, his words more of a needy moan than the growled demand like he would have liked. His other hand rested on Owen's ass and he jumped as it came down in a quick slap while the other held his mouth in place. “Take it all.”

Hearing those words meant Taruk had to stop sucking him but he still stayed close enough that his breath was warm on Owen's cock and balls. He couldn't ask for more himself, just had to accept the firm hand on the back of his head and the sudden rush of salty fluid that nearly choked him with how thick it was. As he swallowed as much as he could, he tried to push up, only to find Taruk was keeping him down. His heart fluttered a bit and when he was finally let up, Owen took his time in cleaning his lovers cock up. Licking from base to top and moaning when one last bit squirted on to his face.

“Taruk,” he whined as he jerked his hips and made his erection bob in front of his lovers face. “Please, I wanna come too.”

“You need to?” Taruk whispered to him, fingers finding his balls again and cupping them while the other hand continued to lightly slap his ass.

Nodding quickly, Owen not his lip, groaning when one slap left him feeling a bit more tender than before. Taruk's hand moved from his sac to his cock and he squeezed gently as he rocked it in his palm. His hips stuttered and he panted Taruk's name, his eyes half closed. The hand on his ass gave one small squeeze before moving to his thigh, playing with the soft skin along the inside and gliding down then pressing on the back of his knee.

“Come for me..”

The words were less of a growl and more tender than Owen remembered his voice being before. The thick digits playing with his tip, his tongue flicking to wet it again. His lips still brushing against the length to give every spot a bit of love as he jerked Owen off at a slow pace, bringing him back to the crest he had been at just before.

“You look so good, come on for me, Owen. Let me watch you coming.” Taruk rasped.

The gentle demands along with the attention was enough and the priest rocked into his hand with a moan, hoping Taruk didn't mind getting come on him so suddenly. He groaned as his legs started to feel like jelly and laughed softly when Taruk used one arm to hold him up and then turned him on his side. Panting quietly, Owen brought a hand to his face and started to wipe off the spray of cum there, tasting it off his fingers while Taruk found a cloth and started to clean him up.

“You going to tell me what you were going to say before..?” Owen murmured, his words a slur as he got comfortable, letting Taruk take care of him.

The scout paused with his cloth cleaning his cheeks and he grinned, making one tusk look a bit crooked. Leaning over, he kissed Owen and stroked his arm.

“I love you.” Taruk murmured, looking down at him.

Covering his face with his hand, Owen hid a smile and then pulled Taruk closer. “Do you have to help the others?  Or can you stay here tonight?”

“I can stay. I'm sure those three can manage to start a fire and feed themselves.”

“Gart has a firepit started. Pretty sure Cadgar has dinner. Or he's going to get dinner with his wolf.” Owen sighed, satisfied that no one would come barging in to take Taruk away.

“And Zarrek will make sure they don't get too rowdy.” Taruk nodded, thinking about how the elder orc had gone off to look for the other two before he came to see Owen.

Everything was perfectly settled for the night and Taruk couldn't stop smiling, amazed at how smooth it all ended up being when he had thought it would be such a hardship not to be in control. Pulling Owen against his chest, he rested his chin on the top of his priest's head and rubbed down his back, soothing him back to sleep. He was still glowing a bit, but maybe a night light would be okay to sleep with. 


End file.
